Burning Beaches and Cool Motel Rooms
by Fae-and-night
Summary: Tonight was a sweet dream. It was just Sam, Jess, and the beach. And then it was fire and Lucifer, and Sam just needs Dean. Drabble-ish. Set S5. Fem!Sam. Part of my genderbent Sam universe "Such a Girl." Everyone else is canon gender.


_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own Supernatural or anything mentioned below. I don't mean to offend or invalidate anyone with this story, this –verse, or the genderbending of characters in it.**

Sam was having a nice dream, one of those sweet dreams that (for hunters in general, and Winchesters especially) are few and far between.

Even at Stanford, she had nightmares more often than not. Sometimes her roommate, Brandy, would be able to wake her, and sometimes Jess would hold her until the thrashing and yelling quieted; both reactions, once Sam was awake, would be met with, "Sorry, shouldn't have woke you up; I'm sorry."

Sometimes, when she was alone, she'd end up shouting herself awake. "Mom! DAD! _**DEAN**_!"

Tonight was a sweet dream. It was just her, Jess, and the beach. It was just the two of them splashing around in the salty water, like children dancing in the sea-spray, until they nearly collapsed in blissful exhaustion. Eventually, Jess carefully tackled Sam to the ground, and she let her, even though (tired as she was) she could still have knocked an attacker unconscious with a single blow. Sam wasn't worried; she didn't have to worry about Jess.

Jess was safe. Jess was care-free joy, and ridiculously bouncy blonde curls, and homemade cookies, and this sunny day on the beach.

She pressed her into the sand, her happy smile almost as blinding as the noon sky over their heads. She leaned down with her hands in Sam's shoulder-length waves of chestnut hair, and kissed her bottom lip. Next her chin. Then her jaw and her neck.

She was lighting her on fire. Sam shut her eyes and leaned back into the sand, just relishing in the sensation of the woman she loved, chuckling when her lover brushed her lips against a sensitive spot on her neck. Jess's own laugh was lost in Sam's skin, and Sam felt her whole body filling with the pleasant heat of her lips and this sunny strip of beach.

Only, Sam was feeling too hot. The heat was uncomfortable now, and she wanted to dip back into the water. She gently pushed Jess back, her mouth open to suggest they move this to the shallows. Opening her eyes, she saw it wasn't Jess at all.

Jess wasn't trying to burn her. Lucifer was.

He grinned down at her, flashing Sam a glimpse of the silver lighter he held in his hand, before bringing it back toward her neck. It was like the salt water and sweat she was soaked in was gasoline, catching the little flame quickly and spreading it all over her body.

 _It's so hot_ , was all Sam could think. The fire was everywhere. Lucifer had set her on fire; she had set the beach on fire and the sun had set the sky on fire.

She heard Dean calling her, calling from the direction of the water. Yes, if she could just get to Dean, to the water, the fire would go out. She lurched against the fallen archangel's hold when a sudden thought struck. Dean wasn't burning, was he? Was Dean safe from the fire? She had to find out, had to get to her brother.

As though Lucifer had heard her thoughts, he was there, pushing her into the burning sand with searing cold hands.  
"Say yes, Sammy, and I'll let you stop the burning. I'll give you back your beloved Jess. I won't burn your brother. I'll let you go to Dean if you just say yes, and you'll both finally be safe. I know that's all you really want, all you've ever wanted. Just let me in. That's all I want from you, Sammy; just a yes, and I'll give you everything," he said it so soothingly, like he hated holding Sam down. Like she was a misbehaved child who refused to apologize and was making him punish her.

Sam thrashed harder against the freezing burn of the fallen angel's hands. She had to fight, even if it felt like the red sky was pressing down on her to answer; every burning grain of sand begged her to say yes, and Lucifer just smiled down at her, sad, understanding, and patient.

"No, no! NO!" Sam wouldn't give in. She had to get to Dean. If she was with her brother, the burning would stop, and she would know he was safe, and he would protect her. She had to get to Dean, or he had to get to her. "Dean! _**Dean**_! Dean, please! _**DEAN**_ -!"

Suddenly she was being shaken awake.  
"Sam! Sammy, wake up! Just a dream, Sam. It's not real," Dean barked at her.

Sam looked wildly around the room, making sure he hadn't followed her through her dream. It was dark; the nice, comforting soft grey darkness of three in the morning. It was cool; the motel had poor insolation and that let the November chill seep into the room. Dean had pulled her into a sitting position on her bed, his hands grasping her shoulders firmly. Her own hands were fisted in the sheets, and Sam could hear her uneven breathing fill the room.

"Sam? You with me, Sammy?" Switching her grip to Dean's shirt, she nodded. She just needed to be sure he was there; that this wasn't like Oklahoma, when she'd woke from her dreams of Lucifer to the silent, ringing condemnation of Dean's absence and her own wild imaginings.

Dean didn't acknowledge the movement with anything other than a squeeze on her shoulders. "You okay?" Sam nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.  
"Fine. I'm fine, just... it was just _him_ again." She felt more than heard Dean breathe a curse. Her brother tensed, almost pulling her into a hug.

She felt the possibility of her Dean's arms around her or smoothing down her once again shorn brown locks, protecting and comforting his little sister just like when they were children. It almost hurt when Dean just squeezed her shoulders instead. She could see the pain in Dean's eyes too, and she knew it was this distance, this tense whatever it was hanging between them all the time. Things were never going to be the same, never like when they had been kids; when Dean could make Sam's world right with a hug, and Sam could make Dean's right with a smile.

Sam nodded, letting herself breathe in this moment of comfort for just one more minute, then let go of Dean's shirt and pulled away from her big brother. Her moment of weakness was over, and it would always be easier for Dean if Sam pulled away, rather than making him do it. Dean would never be able to pull back first. Dean would scream at her, hit her, give her the silent treatment, order her around, but he would never just bite the bullet and _**leave**_.

Sam stifled a bitter laugh. Of course, leaving the family was what _**Sam**_ did best.

Evidently, Dean noticed the chuff anyway but wouldn't say anything. He just sat on her bed, watching as she drew her knees against her chest and rested her chin on them. Sam just stared back at him, before letting out another huff of bitterness.

"Sorry, Dean," she said, her voice low with broken regret. Her tone communicated a deeper apology, _'So sorry I'm such a screw up; so sorry I ruined your life; so sorry I broke the world; so sorry I_ **exist** _; so sorry for everything; how can you stand to be around me, to even look at me? Why don't you hate me?_ ' Dean, despite him instinctually knowing what she meant, shrugged; he decided not to acknowledge all the things his sister hated herself for.  
"Wasn't sleepin', anyway," he responded, nodding to the half-empty bottle on the nightstand. Sam saw the understanding in his eyes, despite his words. There was a nonverbal, ' _It's_ _okay; it'll be okay; I won't ever leave you; I'll never hate you,_ ' in his words. Even if he couldn't say it out loud- even if things weren't exactly good between them, he could never hate Sammy.

She laughed a real laugh and shook her head; her brother and his no-chick-flick-moments rules. Saying sappy stuff (like how much they actually cared about each other, how much they both needed each other to even _**breathe**_ ) simply wasn't their style, and it never had been. If anything, words had often only got tangled up in their meanings, obstructing what they really wanted to say.

Sam dimpled a weak half-smile at him. ' _Thanks for being my big brother; thanks for not leaving me; thanks for not hating me; you're awesome_. _Love you, Dean._ '  
Dean just rolled his eyes with a faint smile and mussed up his sister's already scraggly looking locks. _'You're such a girl, Sammy, but I freaking love you anyway; there. Ya happy now?_ '


End file.
